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Was this what love was? Or was it just fascination?

Hell, I didn’t know the difference. I’d been with a few women seriously over the years—one right before I’d gone into the Rangers—but that had fizzled quickly. The brotherhood of my unit had been too strong to compete with a fleeting love that was too young to get off the ground.

Then it had been the Rangers. Missions and rowdy downtime didn’t make for a good place for me to find the one. Just the one for the night.

The rockstar life had quickly overshadowed even the thrill of being in the Rangers. I’d found another family. One that allowed me to make connections without worrying about them landing in a bloody pile by my boots.

I shook my head. Hell, no, I wasn’t going there tonight.

I pushed back my stool and stood, opening my arms to stretch the tendons and muscles that were quivering in tension. A whistle from the crowd had me grinning. The actress again.

God, what was her name? Shelby Clark.

Teagan’s blazing red hair flipped over her shoulder as she heard the whistle in the quiet of the room. Then her attention zinged my way. Those bluebell eyes that haunted my damn dreams were snapping fire.

Huh. Well then.

I lifted my sticks and started off the power ballad that was next on the setlist. It was a slow build. I was fucking vibrating, but I had to find some goddamn control. Luckily, the drums built quickly as Lindsey’s husky voice exploded after the initial slow, sexy opening.

The pianos came in to crash and bleed through Zane’s solo.

Jamie was crawling off the side catwalk to the balconies. She jumped up and maneuvered her way around the U-shaped sections. I saw Noah take off after her, the air blue with his growls as he tried to keep pace with her long legs.

She was a fucking maniac, and I loved her to death, like a man who loved his insane sister. I already had one, and thank God Jamie and Jenny didn’t know one another well. I had a feeling I’d be doling out a lot of bail money if they did.

As for Noah, he deserved Jamie. And I had fifty in the little betting pool we had going that he was going to strangle her before we even got back on tour.

Finally, she climbed her way up to Donovan’s VIP balcony and sat on the rail. Donovan’s gaze was steady and cool as always. Jamie pulled her over the ear mic forward. Half the time, she took it off during a show, but when she had a wild hair to sing, it allowed her to click into the song wherever she was on stage.

The girl rarely was where she was supposed to be. On stage or off.

Once Jamie was sure she had all eyes on her, she pulled her guitar strap over her head and looked back at Donovan. “I heard from a little birdie that you used to play.”

Donovan’s reply was just an arched brow.

Jamie flipped her jet black hair over her shoulder and looked out over the crowd. “Did you all know that once upon a time, this uber rich mogul was a guitarist in a band?”

Christ, she was a bold bitch.

The wolf whistles that echoed in the club followed by chatter made me plop back on my stool. Well, this should be good.

Lindsey was talking furiously into the God Mic at the back of the stage.

I could only hear every fifth word. I didn’t really care either. If there had been popcorn near me, I would be eating it. This was way too good.

Donovan didn’t even look out into the audience. Instead, he slipped off his suit jacket and loosened his tie then held out his hand for her black Warlock guitar.

“No shit.” Zane leaned on my drum riser. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Jamie gave a rare smile. “Fuck yeah.”

He fit the cobalt blue strap over his head and settled the guitar against his torso. I was expecting some standard fare. Maybe a little Zeppelin or Stones and that w

ould have been cool enough for the titan of music.

The dirty licks of “Machinehead” roared out from the guitar.

Lindsey’s head practically spun around and she skidded to her microphone. “Well, hello, Donovan.”

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